Dear Artie, Count Me In
by Hatter of Madness
Summary: When new student Melissa Widman joins glee club, she finds herself falling for wheelchair bound Artie Abrams. But how will Kurt interfere? T for language. OC/Artie. Slightly AU. Some people OOC. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**~*~Dear Artie, Count Me In~*~  
by Hatter of Madness**

I'm not your average, ordinary, everyday girl.

I prefer Abbey Dawn to Hollistor. I prefer walking to driving. I prefer The Beatles to All Time Low (though I do love the song _Dear Maria, Count Me In_, which I know is one of their older songs, but still).

And I prefer new things to old ones, which is probably why I'm the kind of girl who _wants_ to move halfway across the country from California to Ohio. I'd be coming halfway through the semester at McKinley High. As we drove from Sanger to Lima, my mother was on her laptop, looking at the school's site.

"They have a show choir, Missy," she told me. Missy was an old family nickname—my real name was Melissa. "That sounds like something you'd like, right?"

"Whatever," I mumbled, turning up my iPod louder (now playing: _Dancing With Myself_ by Billy Idol) to drown out what she said. However, the truth was, that excited me. Show choir was just a fancier title for glee club, which was a group of people who combined choral singing with dance movements. I hoped that I could still get into the club, which my mother then went on to say was called New Directions and was run by a Mr. William Schuester.

After we had settled into our house in Lima, I started attending McKinley. The first day I went to the office and told the lady at the front desk that I was new. She then pulled up my name on her computer and told me, "At McKinley we have seven periods, which means you'll be taking four core classes and two electives…that is, if your grades are good enough…"

"I've always been a straight A student," I said as she started to bring up my transcript, but she didn't seem to here me.

"It looks like you've always been a straight A student," she said. _Obviously_. "Our freshmen don't take history, so you'll be taking English, geometry, biology, and physical ed…"

"Actually I have a doctor's note, I'm hypoglycemic and I'm not supposed to do P.E.," I said. It was true that I was hypoglycemic, but not to a point that I would be unable to do P.E. I had created a fake doctor's note on my computer and signed it to make it look professional. I pulled out my fake doctor's note and handed it to her. I was hoping I'd be able to weasel my way out of P.E. so I could have a free period, or maybe a third elective.

The lady studied the note and pulled me out of P.E. "I'll have to put that on file," she said, typing slowly. I wanted to just sit at her desk and type for her, as at my old school I could type 84 words a minute as a twelve year old seventh grader. "So you now have a third elective," she said. "Now, I don't want to put you into anything you don't want…"

"Do you have drama?"

"Yes," she said, adding me to drama. "We also require that all McKinley High students take at least two years of foreign language, we offer Spanish and German…"

"German," I said, though I did remember that Mr. Schuester, the glee club teacher was the Spanish teacher. I already knew some German after having a German penpal, so the course seemed easier to me.

"And you have one elective left," she said, a little dazed. I could tell she didn't give out third electives to freshmen often. "We have computers, band, art, health, dance…"

"Dance," I decided, hoping to be able to use _some_ of my creative ability in that class.

She printed out my schedule. "Have your teachers sign this for me," she said, gesturing to my schedule, "and bring it back to me at the end of the day. This second piece of paper," she said, giving me a second, "is a map of the school." She grabbed a highlighter and started highlighting areas. "These are your classes. I hope you have a good day," she said, giving me a nice, but not exactly friendly, smile. I grinned back, hitching my book bag onto my shoulder better. As I left the office, I looked at my schedule for the first time.

_1._ English – Mrs. Kress  
_2._ German – Mrs. Reynoso  
_3._ Dance – Ms. Morey  
_4._ Drama – Mr. Dias  
_5._ Lunch  
_6._ Geometry – Mr. Montague  
_7._ Biology – Mrs. Reaper

The first half of the day was pretty uneventful. Several students asked me who I had for P.E. and what hour, a majority of them girls hoping to share a locker with me so I could save the trouble of having to ask Ms. Sylvester, the female locker room attendant, for a locker assignment. Most of them were jealous when I said I didn't have to take P.E.

Finally, it was time for lunch. As I was walking towards the cafeteria, a boy I recognized from my English class was opening his locker and taking out his books. He was in a wheelchair and seemed to be having a difficult time reaching one of his books. As I started to walk forward to help him, someone came up behind him, grabbed the handles of his chair, and sent rolling towards the stairs. He tried to stop himself but couldn't, probably out of fear. My heart leapt out of my chest and I ran forward to stop him right before he hurtled down the stairs.

"Thanks," he wheezed, as I rounded on the guy who had shoved him.

"Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with you?" I spat. "Yeah, I'm talking to you, Mohawk Boy!" I added as the guilty party pretended to be confused. "Do you think this is funny?" I was growing angrier by the second. "Do you think it's funny that he's in a wheelchair and is about as defenseless as you want him to be?"

"Dude, chill…" Mohawk Boy started.

"Excuse me? '_Dude_'? Do I _look_ like a dude?"

"Oh, come on, Artie knows we were just joking…"

"Oh, really?" I said. Artie, as he was called, started rolling himself toward the cafeteria, but stopped when I added, "Because it seems to me that Artie _didn't_ know that, or did you conveniently forget to tell him? Because I think you have to be pretty fucked in the head to screw with a kid in a wheelchair." And with that, I fled to the cafeteria before Mohawk Boy had a chance to deal with me. Artie watched, mouth agape, as I made my exit.

I looked around the cafeteria. There seemed to be a group of cliques. There was a sea of red and white clad girls wearing cheerleader uniforms. There was another group of Letterman jackets—football players, probably. There was another group of girls all wearing black with a few boys who seemed to want to just disappear. Finally, I spotted Artie sitting by himself. As I went to join him, he rolled away. I frowned, looking for somewhere else. Finally, I saw someone sitting at a table alone absorbed in a book. I chose to sit there.

"Excuse me, may I please sit here?" I asked.

The boy put down the book for a moment and inspected me. I was wearing my Abbey Dawn Rock & Roll Army button up over a _Wicked_ T-shirt. He shrugged and said, in a shockingly feminine voice, "Sure," and went back to his book. I flopped down at the table.

"So what you reading?" I asked, trying to make pleasant conversation.

He glanced up again. "_Wicked_," he responded. He looked at my shirt. "Weird coincidence, right?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "At Sanger no one had heard of _Wicked_ before."

"I love _Wicked_," he said. "Especially the compositions."

_What the hell?_ I thought. I had never heard a song being called a 'composition' before. "You like _Defying Gravity_?" I asked, ignoring it.

"Screw gravity," he responded. "I want to fly."

I snorted, almost causing my chocolate milk to fly out my nose. After I stopped choking, I said, "I wish I could fly."

"What you're dreaming of isn't flying," the boy told me.

I cocked an eyebrow. "Oh?" He had caught my interest. "And what _is_ it, then?"

"Falling with style," he responded.

I laughed. "You're weird."

"Sorry."

I smiled. "No, that was a compliment." I played with the cap from my milk bottle and asked, "You're kind of awesome…in a weird way, you know? No offense or anything."

He shrugged. "I get that a lot."

"Me, too. In Sanger I was branded as a freak because I was into performing and everything."

He nodded. We were both silent for a minute before he said, "Kurt." I must have looked confused because he added, "You know…it's my name."

I nodded. "Melissa Widman." At that moment, in strolled Mohawk Boy, making me think of Artie in seconds. "Hey, what's the deal with kid in the wheelchair?"

"Artie Abrams?" Kurt asked. I nodded. So his name _was_ Artie. "I don't know. He doesn't really talk about it."

"Well, people seem to be rude to him," I said. "I saw some kid with a ridiculous Mohawk try to push him down the stairs before this period. That was really rude."

"You're talking about Noah Puckerman, aren't you?" Kurt asked. "Although most people just call him 'Puck'…. If you think Puck's bad now, you should have seen him before glee club. He trapped Artie in a Port-A-Potty and was going to tip it over until Finn Hudson showed up."

I was shocked. I didn't really know him well but I already hated Mohawk Boy—Puck, as Kurt had identified him as—and that was low, even for him. I could only imagine what poor Artie had to go through before What's-His-Name showed up. However, I didn't have long to dwell on this as Kurt's other words invaded my thoughts: _If you think Puck's bad now, you should have seen him before glee club._

_You should have seen him before glee club._

_Before glee club._

_Glee._

"Did you say glee club?" I asked, totally switching the subject. Kurt nodded in agreement, no longer looking at me. "I know it's kind of late, but can I still sign up."

"I'm pretty sure Mr. Schue could see you now, seeing as it's lunch," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Though you do have to have an audition prepared…"

"Not a problem," I said, standing. "Well, it's been nice chatting with you, Kurt, but I gotta jet."

"Bye," Kurt said, but as I was already hurrying towards Mr. Schuester's room, I barely heard him. I ran so fast I almost passed the classroom but stopped in time. I knocked on the door and hurriedly fixed my clothes. Moments later, a tall, incredibly good looking male, approximately early thirties, opened the door. I knew at once that this was Mr. William Schuester.

"May I help you?" Mr. Schuester asked.

I thrust my hand at him, hoping he would give me a polite handshake. However, he looked at my hand in surprise as I said, "Hello, my name is Melissa Widman and I was wondering whether I could audition for the glee club."

"Hello, Melissa…" he said, less than enthusiastically. "I haven't seen you before…"

"Oh, today's my first day," I said. "I was hoping I could audition for the glee club," I repeated.

"Uh…sure…" he said. He opened the door to allow me to come in. "Do you have…"

I pulled out my iTouch, saying, "My mother said iPods were allowed here, I always carry it with me." I quickly entered my passcode (4365 for _Idol_, like Billy Idol) and pulled up the song—a karaoke version of _Popular_ by Kristin Chenoweth, who was, of course, the original person to play Galinda in _Wicked_. From the conversation in the beginning ("Elphie, now that we're friends, I've decided to make you my new project…"), Mr. Schuester could tell what song I was singing.

"Melissa, I'm going to stop you there," he said, though I hadn't even sang yet. I pressed the 'pause' button on my iTouch. "Melissa, I'm glad you're so interested in glee club, but _Popular_ is a hard performance to live up to, I've only heard a handful of sopranos who can…"

"Mr. Schuester, _I'm_ going to have to stop _you_ there," I said. "I may only be fourteen but I _am _a soprano, Mr. Schuester, and I've got as much talent as Miss Chenoweth does. In fact, I auditioned for Cinderella in _Cinderella_ by Rodgers and Hammerstein when I was six, and, if we're being honest, the coordinators of the show said the only reason they were turning me down was because of my age because I could sing, dance, and act so well. When I was nine I sang the national anthem on live television for the Super Bowl, I was in my church's Worship Team from ages ten to thirteen, and just last year when I was thirteen I sang _In My Own Little Corner_ from _Cinderella_ for an opening of a Ritz hotel…I've got talent, Mr. Schuester, and lots of it."

Mr. Schuester just raised his eyebrows, shook his head, and said, "Alright, let's go for it."

I smiled. "Excellent." I started the song over and sang. When I finished the last ridiculously long note, I paused, then asked, "So when are rehearsals?"

Mr. Schuester sighed. "Melissa, I'm not sure if I can use you…"

I frowned. "Why not?"

"It's nothing personal against you, Melissa, I just don't think…"

I grabbed his tie, forcing him to come within centimeters of my own face. "_Look_, Schuester," I said. "I probably have more experience and talent than _half_ of your glee students combined. I'd be doing your club a _favor_ by joining. And if you don't let me in, I'll just have to get my stepfather to sue the school for all its worth."

He thought this over for a moment before saying, "Practices are after school today."

Happily, I let go of his tie, said, "Thank you," and dashed off to class, as, at that moment, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

* * *

After fleeing Schuester's office, I had geometry. As I sat down, I realized we were covering the area of a circle with a radius of less than one, one of the first things we had covered before I had left Sanger, but apparently they were elaborating on yesterday's review of the previous year where they talked about the area of a circle. I sighed. I would be bored this class period…until I realized who I was sitting by.

Out of the corner of my eye I identified Artie Abrams, hurriedly copying down notes that the teacher, Mr. Montague, put up. I was confused—Artie, as I remember Kurt mentioning when I was too busy thinking about glee to pay much attention, was a sophomore; a vast majority of the class were freshmen. I put it out of my mind and I, too, pretended to be interested in the subject the teacher was busy explaining. When the bell finally rang, I grabbed my stuff to go, but as I was standing, some idiot brushed past Artie's desk, knocking his textbook under a desk. He glanced at Artie and continued to leave the class. Artie sighed and started to move forward to grab the book, but quickly found that it was under the table under his reach. Finally, having watched long enough, I walked forward and grabbed the book, passing it to Artie. "Here," I said.

"Thanks," he said back, embarrassed, shoving the book into his bag and rolling out the door before I could say anything more. I was going to try to talk to him but he was gone and I stood there dumb faced before finally going to my locker to grab my biology book.

The period passed incredibly slowly. As we had already covered this in Sanger as well (bacteria and microorganisms), I watched the clock tick very slowly. When the bell finally rang, I grabbed my stuff and went to the office as fast as I could, determined not to be late to glee club. Walking into the office, I almost ran into Ms. Sylvester—I recognized her at once with her "short blonde hair" and "menacing blue eyes", as my friend from English, Gigi, had called her.

"Watch where you're going," Ms. Sylvester snapped.

"Sorry," I said, barely audible. I walked to the front desk and handed the lady my schedule.

"How did your first day go, dear?" she asked.

"Fine," I lied.

"Good," she said, not at all aware that I was lying. She signed a messy signature at the top of the paper and handed it back to me. "There you go, dear," she said. I nodded to say "thanks" and ran off to glee club. I came in later than everyone else, but not actually late, as Mr. Schuester wasn't even there yet. I grabbed an empty seat and sat down, right as the clock struck the hour and Mr. Schuester arrived.

"Settle down," he told two girls in back, who were looking at me and whispering to each other. Both were wearing the red and white cheerleader's uniforms. "Now, some of you may have noticed that we have a new edition to the New Directions glee club, Miss Melissa…" He paused at my last name, seeming to have forgotten it.

"Widman," I said, standing and walking over next to Mr. Schuester.

"Right, Melissa Widman," he said. "Why don't you say something about yourself, Melissa?"

"I'd _love_ to, Mr. Schuester," I said happily. I cleared my throat to get attention to myself. "Well, I'm Melissa, I'm fourteen and a freshmen and today is my first day at McKinley." I paused. "I have auditioned for _Cinderella_ but was denied the part only due to my age, I was on my church's Worship Team, I sang the national anthem once at the Super Bowl, and I sang _In My Own Little Corner_ on the opening night of a Ritz."

"Isn't that where they make crackers?" asked one of the cheerleaders quietly.

"And today to audition for the glee club, I sang _Popular_ from _Wicked_ for Mr. Schuester," I said, giving the teacher a sideways glance. He stood from where he was at his desk and walked towards me.

"Thank you, Melissa," Mr. Schuester said, shoving me back to my seat. "I didn't really need your life story, but thanks, all the same."

I resumed my seat, listening intently to every word Mr. Schuester was saying. He said that he had put the members of the glee club's name into the hat he had and that he wanted each member to draw a name from the hat so that they could get their partners to sing a ballad to. However, several members of the glee club told him that a student named Matt was absent, so Mr. Schuestesr said, "I guess I'll have to put my name in, then."

A few students at a time went up. I wasn't paying much attention until Artie rolled his way forward and pulled a blue slip out of the hat, reading, loud and clear, "Melissa."

* * *

**Okay, what the hell happened? Somehow chapter three got posted in chapter three and chapter one. BUT I HAVE FIXED THE PROBLEM (I hope)! Please review. This is my first _Glee_ fic, so please be nice.**

**-Hatter**


	2. Chapter 2

Here's what you missed on _Glee_.

Melissa Widman's the new girl in school and she's got the stage energy and talent for glee club but she's faking having a severe medical condition that in reality is only mild so she doesn't have to take P.E.

She made friends with Kurt and auditioned for glee singing _Popular_ from _Wicked_ but Mr. Schuester didn't want to use her and she wouldn't listen why so she threatened him to put her in glee.

Melissa also saved Artie from embarrassment twice and at her first glee club rehearsal Brittany thought the Ritz Hotel was where they made crackers and Artie chose her name from Mr. Schue's hat to sing a duet to.

And that's what you missed on _Glee_.

* * *

"Melissa."

I looked up. Several girls looked at me and snickered. Artie rolled back to his original spot, looked at me momentarily, and his face lit up in recognition.

"Didn't you help me, like, twice today?" he asked. "Once with Puck and then in geometry with my book?"

"Um, yeah," I said quietly.

"Cool," he said, "and, uh…thanks, I guess."

"No problem," I said. "Anytime."

After a girl named Rachel, who was, let's face it, way more talented than I had _ever_ hoped to be, and Mr. Schuester, her partner, as she was the only one left who hadn't gone up yet and Mr. Schuester was the only one who's name hadn't appeared yet, sang a lovely rendition of a ballad, Artie and I, along with the rest of the pairs, talked about what ballad they hoped to sing with their partner.

"You don't mind _Yesterday_ by The Beatles, do you?" he asked.

I smiled. "Not at all, in fact I love The Beatles."

In the back of the room, I could hear someone complaining, "Oh God, are we gonna have to hug, or something?" I turned. One of the guys in glee club was partnered with Kurt. Kurt rolled his eyes. I snorted.

"Who's that?" I asked Artie.

"Finn," he said. "Quinn Fabray's boyfriend."

"Quinn?"

"The blonde one."

"Do you realize that their names rhyme?"

"Yeah." Silence.

"So, uh, been in glee club long?" I asked, looking at Artie, who was making a point not to look at me. He seemed to find his hands very interesting. However, when I spoke to him after the silence, he looked up at me, then back at his hands again.

"I was one of the original five members," he said. "I auditioned with the song _Let It Be_ by The Beatles. It's a classic."

"I love that song," I said, more to myself than Artie. He looked at me momentarily and said, "You sit next to me in geometry, don't you?"

I smiled. "Kind of," I said, nodding. "Well, uh…"

"Mr. Schue, how long do we have this assignment?" Kurt asked.

"I give you three days," Mr. Schuester said, "but I don't want you to blow off the assignment till the last minute. In fact, get with your partner some time during the three days and practice, okay?"

"Melissa—"

I turned, looking at Artie, who was staring deeply into my eyes…

_My heart gave that funny familiar lurch again, the same way it did when Puck was harassing Artie, but this time, it was a surreal, almost pleasant feeling. My breath caught in my throat and try as I might, I felt as though I couldn't breathe. The world seemed to stop spinning for a moment. I was afraid to speak, for fear I might stutter. An incredibly happy sensation rushed through me. I was sitting down, feet resting on the floor, but it felt as though for the first time I was defying gravity. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but I liked the sudden rush of adrenaline I got from it. I felt as though the room had no ceiling or floor, like I was floating through air…unable to get back down again…_

I quickly realized I had been staring at Artie with my mouth open. Quickly, blinking, I said, "Uh, yeah?"

"Do you think we should do _Yesterday _by itself or mash it with another song?"

I frowned. "We're allowed to do that?"

"Well Mr. Schue's done it before," Artie said, completely ignoring the fact that I was still staring at his eyes. I quickly looked away when he looked into my eyes, my heart melting. _Was I falling in love with Artie Abrams?_

No, that was silly. I barely knew the guy. Before lunch, I had no idea he existed. I just felt bad because he was in a wheelchair. Yeah, that _had _to be it…there's no way you can love someone you know for only a few hours…

"Melissa?" Artie said. I snapped up. "Melissa!"

"Huh? What?"

"I said, could you meet me tomorrow during lunch sometime so we can work on this?"

"Oh." I felt my face getting redder by the second. Gosh, I was zoning out again. _You don't love him!_ I told myself furiously. _He's such a dork! _Okay, yeah, Artie was kind of a dork, but, in another sense, he was adorable. Adorkable? "Yeah, that sounds fine. Um, where at?"

"Mr. Montague lets almost everyone in his class during fifth period. Why don't you just bring your lunch and meet me there? It'll be so loud no one could hear us anyway."

_Is it loud enough so that I can scream_ I WANT TO KISS YOU SO BAD _at the top of my lungs and no one will hear?_

"Sure. Meet you there."

* * *

The next day Kurt met me outside the cafeteria. I felt really uncomfortable telling him I'd be with Artie in Mr. Montague's room, but he seemed totally cool with it. I wasn't really hungry so I grabbed some bottled water and headed to the second floor.

As I was climbing the stairs, I wondered how Artie got up to the second floor everyday with a wheelchair. I felt terrible for him. He told me yesterday that doctors said he'd never be able to walk again, even though it was his dream to be a dancer. I wanted him to reach that goal.

The entire night I had been thinking about Artie and researching ballads and Googling ballads. Finally, I found a song that I could not get out of my head—Celine Dion's _My Heart Will Go On_, the theme song of _Titanic_. Every time I listened to it on iTunes and YouTube, I couldn't get Artie out of my head, and it seemed to fit perfectly with _Yesterday_. True, the tunes weren't the same—not even close—but the songs seemed to be written by two lovers. _My Heart Will Go On_ was to be my message to Artie.

I opened the door and looked around. It wasn't easy to find Artie; he was so much shorter than everyone else, what with being in a wheelchair. He was in the dead center of the room, staring straight ahead. I walked forward, breathing deeply as I had trained myself to do when he was around, to avoid accidental fainting. I cleared my throat when I was behind him. "Uh…Artie?"

He turned. "Hi," he said timidly. He looked at a chair in front of him. Without saying anything, I knew he was asking me to sit down.

"Uh…I chose a song," I said.

"Good," he said quietly.

"_My Heart Will Go On_ by Celine Dion."

"Okay." He wasn't getting the message.

"You know, it's not exactly commonplace to do a mash up of ballads, but…"

"Melissa, you and I both know we're not here to discuss Mr. Schuester's assignment."

I frowned. _How the fuck did he know? _"We…we're not?" I asked.

"You're trying to figure me out, aren't you?"

I almost let out a sigh of relief, but caught myself. "Well, uh…I'd like to be friends…" I started._ No, I don't,_ I thought, _I want to be your date Friday night._

"Well, to be friends we kind of need to know something about each other first."

"Oh." Silence. "Well I kind of expect to die old, sad, and alone." _Mental facepalm. What the fuck was that, Missy?_

"Kind of like a cat lady, but without any cats," Artie said. "Right?"

"Exactly." Another silence. "Um, if you don't mind my asking, what happened with your…uh…"

"Oh." Apparently Artie knew exactly what I was trying to say. He looked and sounded rather uncomfortable with the situation.

"If you don't want to tell me…" I started.

"I was in a car accident eight years ago."

"I'm sorry." A third silence. "Do you know that Tina girl?" I asked after a while. There was a girl in glee club named Tina and when I walked into glee club yesterday she looked me up and down, scoffed, and rolled her eyes every time I said something about myself when I told the glee club something about me. I barely knew her, yet I did not like her.

"She's hot," Artie said. My heart sank.

"She's a bitch," I countered, then immediately regretted it. _Why the heck did I have to say that? Everything that comes out of my mouth today just sucks major balls._

"Sort of," Artie agreed. "I thought I knew her, but she was lying about something…" He trailed off. "You know Kurt Hummel?"

"He's hot," I heard myself blurt out. Ugh, I just had to be so straightforward.

"He's gay."

"I know," I lied. Kurt was gay? Okay, yeah, I should have seen it coming…he was really into fashion, loved Wicked, was in the glee club (not that that made you gay, it's just that most high schoolers assumed this to be true), wanted to defy gravity, and the voice.

_He sounded like a girl._

"So why don't you like Tina?" Artie asked to break the silence that I hadn't even realized had settled on our conversation.

"She was kind of putting me down in glee club yesterday," I said, looking at my nails and avoiding Artie's eyes. I didn't want to have a panic attack like I did yesterday when Artie was talking to me. "Like when I walked in and she saw what I was wearing, she scoffed. When I was introducing myself, she rolled her eyes at everything I said."

"That's not true," Artie said.

"Really?" I was getting angry, but I felt guilty at the same time for getting so angry with Artie. "Don't take this the wrong way, but your girlfriend…" I could feel the anger growing inside me as I said, "is a bitch."

"She's not my girlfriend," Artie snapped.

"Oh yeah? I saw you two come in together. You two sat next to each other. The only reason you didn't speak to her is because we're partners for this stupid ballad thing."

"If this is so stupid then why are you still here?"

"I was about to ask you the same question."

"Fine." And with that, Artie rolled away. I watched after him, letting my anger die down. Holy crap, I couldn't believe I had just done that. _Way to go, Missy. Way to go._

* * *

That day in geometry was really awkward. Artie, seeing me come in, turned his wheelchair so that he was almost facing the left, so as to avoid seeing me on his right. However, when I sat down, I saw a piece of paper on my desk titled "YESTERDAY/MY HEART WILL GO ON". My own heart skipped a beat. At the bottom of the page was written, "I was thinking we performed today just to get this assignment off our chest. If that doesn't work than there's always tomorrow." After the total bitch that I was to him, Artie still composed our song for me. I tried to tell him thanks, but he ignored me.

Biology went by just as fast as geometry was slow. Finally, it was time for glee club.

I was walking with Gigi, as she had health the same hour that I had biology, and the two classes were right next to each other.

"Are you doing anything today after school?" she asked.

"Glee club," I responded.

She wrinkled her nose. "_Glee _club?" she asked. "You…you're not _serious?_"

"Yeah, it's fun. You should join, too."

"Thanks, but no thanks. Well…bye, Missy."

"Bye, Gig."

_Oh, great, _I thought, _now _Gigi _hates me, too._

As I walked into glee club, I spotted Artie, who was busy ignoring Tina, who was very Chatty Cathy with him. I cleared my throat and he looked up.

"What?" he asked.

"Um…uh…sorry," I said quietly. He raised an eyebrow. "I was ready to do the performance, if you were."

He sighed. "Why not?" I nodded, taking a seat as Mr. Schuester came in. He asked if anyone was ready to perform their ballad.

"Isn't that, like, a male duck?" Brittany, one of the cheerleaders, asked Santana, another cheerleader, quietly.

When Mr. Schuester called on me and Artie, I was swift to stand up, determined to make a point to help him to the front of the class, but he rolled himself up there so fast that I was barely at my full height when he turned to face the class. He handed the pianist the notes to our song and started to sing.

_Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away_  
_Now it looks as though they're here to stay_  
_Oh, I believe in yesterday_

Then it was my turn. Nervously—though I shouldn't have been nervous; I sang the National Anthem on national television as a little kid, hadn't I?—I started to sing my part.

_Every night in my dreams_  
_I see you, I feel you_  
_That is how I know you go on_

It was then Artie's turn.

_Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be_  
_There's a shadow hanging over me_  
_Oh, yesterday came so suddenly_

It was my turn again.

_Far across the distance_  
_And spaces between us_  
_You have come to show you go on_

Artie got his moment to shine once again.

_Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play_  
_Now I need a place to hide away_  
_Oh, I believe in yesterday_

I hesitated before remembering it was my turn.

_Near, far, wherever you are_  
_I believe that the heart does go on_  
_Once more you open the door_  
_You are safe in my heart and_  
_My heart will go on and on_

Artie and I harmonized to finish off the song.

_Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play_  
_You're here, there's nothing I fear_  
_Now I need a place to hide away_  
_We'll stay forever this way_  
_Oh, I believe in yesterday  
__You are safe in my heart and_  
_My heart will go on and on_  
_Yesterday_

As we finished, there was silence, followed by the sound of Mr. Schuester clapping. "Bravo," he said as others joined him in clapping. "Those are two both incredibly hard songs to sing at your level, but to mix them together and sing them so beautifully…"

A few other pairs performed, most of them having tortured performances. Finally, Mr. Schuester dismissed us. I was last to leave. I was in the hall when I was stopped be Mr. Schuester's partner for the ballad assignment, a Miss Rachel Berry.

"Um, hi, Rachel," I said.

"Cut the crap, Widman," she said. _Whoa!_ Back up! I had never expected Rachel to get this mad. "You and I both know that you're only in glee club to steal my spotlight, the spotlight I worked so hard to get."

"Cool your jets hun," I said back. "I'm not trying to steal your spotlight. I'm trying to fit in."

"After _that _performance, fitting in is the last thing _you'll _ever do here at McKinley, Widman. You've got more experience than almost all of glee club."

"Rachel Berry, are you intimidated by me?"

"No!" Rachel said, though I could tell she didn't mean it. "If you don't leave glee club, I'll tell Mr. Schuester that you edit your voice and secretly lip synch during both your audition and your ballad performance with Artie. I've been in glee club longer than you and I'm in Mr. Schuester's Spanish class. You're just the new girl. I do believe he'll believe me, not you."

"Oh, but Rachel, sweetie," I said, as though speaking to a five-year-old, "if you tell Mr. Schuester that, then I'm going to have to tell him—and everybody else, for that matter—how in love you are with Mr. Schuester."

She seemed worried. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, but I would." I smiled to myself as I walked away. "Think about it, Rachel."

* * *

That night I was in my bedroom doing research for my English report on _The Good Earth_, a book I had never even read, when my mother came in. "How was your first two days?" she asked, bringing me hot chocolate before bed, a tradition in my family.

"Fine," I said, taking the blue mug from her and having a sip.

"That's good," she said. "Make any new friends? Join any clubs?" she added hopefully.

"Yeah, I'm kind of friends with this girl named Gigi and I joined glee club like you wanted me to. I sang a ballad today with this other guy in front of the club today."

"That's great, honey!" my mother said affectionately. She kissed my forehead before saying, "Don't stay up too late, hun," and leaving, gently closing the door behind her.

I smiled after my mother before she left, and, triple checking to make sure my door was locked, opened a new Microsoft Word document. Before I typed anything, I clicked control 'S' and saved the document as "Dear Artie".

I couldn't believe what I was about to do.

Next I went to Tools and clicked "Protect document". Grabbing a sticky note, I wrote "DOCUMENT: Dear Artie, PASSWORD: billyidol". I entered "billyidol" as the password to the document and stuck the sticky note to the front of my binder before pouring my heart, mind, and soul into my document, saving it as I was finished, throwing my glasses on my bedside table, and falling asleep almost immediately.

* * *

**THAT WASN'T AS TERRIBLE AS CHAPPY ONE! YAYY! Okay. Now. I want feedback. Should I ****really**** continue, or does this story suck as much balls as I think it does? Well, uh. Leave comments and review. Thanks.**

**-Hatter**


	3. Chapter 3

Here's what you missed on _Glee_.

Artie chose _Yesterday_ by the Beatles as his ballad to Melissa and because he looked deeply and intently in her eyes Melissa realized that she was in love with Artie so she chose _My Heart Will Go On_, the theme song of _Titanic_ but Artie really wasn't getting the message.

Rachel starts feeling threatened by Melissa being in glee club so she threatens her to try to convince her to quit glee club but then Melissa threatens to tell Mr. Schuester that Rachel was in love with him so Rachel backs off.

Melissa also writes Artie a love letter on her computer that she password protected and she pours her heart out in it because she just realized that she's totally in love with Artie but just won't admit it yet.

And that's what you missed on _Glee_.

* * *

"So will you join glee club or not?"

"I'll consider…"

"Ugh…Gigi, you really tick me off sometimes."

For what felt like the fiftieth time, I was trying to persuade Gigi to join glee club, without much success, though I do have to admit I did not have very valid arguments.

"Okay, fine…I have a free period after lunch, Mr. Schuester doesn't have a class then so I'll see him about it."

_About time._ "Thanks, Gigi." At that point Mrs. Kress came over and told us to be quiet.

* * *

After school that day I met up with Gigi before glee club and we went together to the rehearsal.

"Is this a rehearsal or a meeting?" Gigi asked.

I laughed. "That's exactly what I was thinking." As I opened the door to the classroom, I was nearly run over by Mercedes.

"Hi, Melissa," she said happily.

"Hi, Mercedes," I said unenthusiastically.

"Listen, Tina and I were thinking since you're new here all the girls in glee club could have a slumber party tomorrow night at my place, to welcome you here."

"Do girls still do slumber parties?" I asked in astonishment.

"Yeah, they do," Gigi said bitterly.

"Oh, you could come, too, Gigi," Mercedes said. Gigi didn't seem so bitter anymore. "Oh, and come in your pajamas," Mercedes whispered to me as Mr. Schuester came in.

"What, was I going to come naked?" I asked.

Glee club was pretty uneventful until Mr. Schuester introduced Gigi to the rest of the club. In the middle of all the happiness, Artie kept giving me weird glances. I didn't know why, but frankly, I didn't _want_ to know. The attention was enough for me.

* * *

Tina, who had P.E. when I had dance, met me in the locker room the next day.

"You're going to Mercedes's party, right?" she asked me.

"Sure, sounds like fun."

"Good." The way she said 'good' and smiled did not seem good at all to me. However, I ignored it, making sure to stuff my gym clothes in my bag before leaving. It was Friday. Every Friday we had to bring home our clothes to wash them.

After I had my clothes in my bag, I left the locker room.

* * *

Sue Sylvester was tired of girls leaving behind their gym clothes every Friday. She watched a girl finish her makeup (which took up three of the seven minutes the girls got to change after gym) and then close her locker, heading towards the exit.

"And where do you think you're going?" Sue asked.

"Uh, fourth period," the girl replied.

"Without your gym clothes?" Sue took out a bullhorn and turned it on. "Wrong answer, you little worm."

The girl winced and said, "It's hard to fit my clothes in my bag…"

"You think that's hard?" Sue said into her bullhorn. "Try running a marathon barefoot when it's a hundred and seven degrees outside, that's hard."

The girl grabbed her clothes out of her locker and sprinted out of the locker room. Sue noticed a yellow piece of paper on the ground—the girl had probably dropped it. She picked it up. Printed across the top in fancy letters were the words "From the Desk of Melissa Widman".

_She has her own personalized post it notes?_ Sue thought. She read on.

"DOCUMENT: Dear Artie PASSWORD: billyidol"

_What teenage girl listens to Billy Idol?_ Sue thought. However, she smiled to herself when she caught what was written underneath "From the Desk of Melissa Widman":

An address and phone number of the Tyler-Widman household.

* * *

Gigi's mother picked me up and dropped me off at Mercedes's house, saying that she was "glad Gigi found a friend like me" and that she "didn't want my mother to worry about giving me a ride".

As Mrs. Santillan dropped us off at Mercedes's house, Gigi told me, "Oh, by the way…the living room…oh my God."

I barely had time to register what Gigi said when Mercedes opened the door and smiled. "Hi, come on in," she said warmly, standing aside for us. "Just put your stuff right there, everyone's here now except for Rachel."

I put my stuff down where Mercedes had motioned and followed her and Gigi out to the living room, where the rest of the X chromosomes of glee club were assembled. I immediately understood why Gigi said "oh my God" about the room. It was huge, but maybe that had something to do with the fact that the only pieces of furniture in it were a couch, two chairs in a corner, and a flatscreen television hanging on the wall.

I looked at the other girls in their pajamas. What didn't surprise me at all was that Brittany had cheerleaders on her purple silky pajamas. Tina was clutching a panda bear stuffed animal. There was something about that that unnerved me, but I put it out of my mind.

Once Rachel arrived (and who would have known—her pajamas had stars on them), we watched a movie called _Zombieland_. I found it odd that during a sleepover with a bunch of girls that we'd watch a zombie movie. Brittany said something stupid. Everyone gave her a weird look and I heard myself blurt out, "You know, if I were to die right now in some sort of fiery explosion due to the carelessness of a friend…well, that would just be okay." The girls laughed and Tina gave me a look that clearly said, "Friend? _What_ friend?" Though I despised her, I had to admit she was totally right. What friends _did_ I have, other than Gigi and Kurt? Artie probably hated my guts, Rachel was intimidated by me, I was only at this sleepover to make friends…I was a virtual unknown.

Tina, looking directly at me, suggested we play truth or dare. I shivered to myself. Gigi frowned. "Isn't that kind of a childish game? For, you know, twelve-year-old acne factories?"

"Aren't _sleepovers_ for twelve-year-old acne factories?" Rachel countered.

"In case you haven't noticed," Mercedes pointed out, "we're _still_ all acne factories." Gigi was quiet. "Okay, why don't we just play truth or dare? It's fun anyway."

The game was going along pretty smoothly until Rachel said, "Gigi, truth or dare?" I was almost _enjoying_ myself.

"Truth," she replied. It was about half and half of truths and dares. Probably my favorite dare was when Santana had to go out on the porch and shout "I love you" to everyone that passed for three minutes. By the time the three minutes were up our stomachs hurt from laughing, not because she had to say "I love you", but because of the way she said it, people's reactions, and some of the people walking by.

"What is the meanest thing you've ever thought about someone you didn't like?" Rachel asked.

Gigi thought for a moment. "Well…I said 'I hope you die then get resurrected then have your brain explode then implode again and fall in front of a coming train completely paralyzed so you can't move and have the train run you over and have you suffer a slow and painful death'."

The girls were silent. "That's pretty specific, Gigi," I said at last.

"Well, she _did_ say…" she started, but Rachel interrupted her.

"That wasn't one of us in glee club, was it?"

"No, it was my brother." The girls started busting up laughing, but I was silent. For one thing, I was an only child. Two, it was her _brother_—family, for Pete's sake. I would _never_ tell that to my family, no matter how annoying they were, although according to Gigi, they didn't come much more annoying than Robert.

"Melissa, truth or dare?" Gigi asked. I was snapped out of my thoughts.

"Huh, what?" I said stupidly. "Oh…uh, truth."

"Who do you have a crush on here at McKinley? Or just in Lima? Just who do you like?"

Well,_ crap._ Immediately Artie came to mind, but there was no way in hell I was saying him.

"Um…"

"Come on, there's got to be _someone_," Quinn droned. "I mean, you may have only been here a few days, but there's got to be _someone_. Who is he?"

"Or she," Tina added. "You can never really tell these days, really."

"It's not a she," I said defensively, then mentally facepalmed myself. Crap, why'd I have to admit that I actually did I have a crush on someone? All the girls said "ooh". I wanted to punch someone in the face.

I guess she could tell I was hesitating, because Mercedes said, "Friends share secrets. That's what keeps us close."

"You're…you're my _friend?_" I asked. I had never really felt ever that I had had friends.

"We _all_ are," Mercedes corrected.

I was so pleased with the sense of belonging that, before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "Well, I don't really _like_ him, I kind of, sort of…_love_ him, I think…" I wanted to go curl up in a hole and die.

"Does anyone reall love each other in high school anymore?" Gigi asked unsympathetically.

"Love is just a word," Mercedes said, "until someone comes along and gives it meaning."

That was so heartfelt that I accidentally blurted out, "It's Artie."

"_Artie?_" Tina, Quinn, and Gigi said together. _Thanks, Gigi,_ I thought. There was a look in Tina's eyes that unnerved me for the second time that evening—it looked like a feeling of hate.

"Artie Abrams?" Rachel asked.

"From glee club?" Santana asked.

"Did you know that dolphins are just gay sharks?" Brittany asked.

"Quiet, Brittany," Quinn said.

I was immediately regretting blurting it out.

For the rest of the evening the girls kept asking me questions about why I thought I was so in love with Artie. Tina was quiet. That scared me quite a bit.

* * *

The next day after I got home from Mercedes's house, my mother was cleaning the kitchen. "Hi, Missy," she said. "How was your sleepover?"

"Fun," I said, and for once, I wasn't lying. Other than me blurting out how I may or may not be in love with Artie Abrams, I had a really fun time, especially after Santana's mishap on truth or dare and when we had a pillow fight in the midst of the whole Artie scandal. Now I know what I had been missing all those times that the popular girls at Faulkner Charter School had sleepovers and I was never invited. "Are we having company or something? Because you seem to be in a cleaning frenzy…"

"Oh, John invited one of the teachers at your school to have dinner with us, to welcome us to the city or something like that," she said, wiping the table down. John was my stepfather. He was the closest thing I had ever had to a father in my entire life, seeing as Mom and John were married when I was three months old.

"Which teacher?" I asked, expecting it to be one of my teachers or maybe even Mr. Schuester.

"Oh, the Cheerios coach, Ms. Sylvester, or something like that?" Mom said.

I froze. _Crap. Not Sue Sylvester,_ I tried to tell my mother telekinetically. Anyone _but Sue Sylvester._ "Um, great," I said. My mother made me go upstairs and "change into something that doesn't make you look like you're about to go Trick or Treating" (obviously Mom likes that I'm an individual, but does not seem to like the fact that all of my clothes from Kohl's and a singer who "can't hit a note to save her life"—Mom's words, not mine). I changed into a simple black and white dress—obviously what she meant and brown ballet flats. _Screw matching,_ I thought to myself, though the flats were dark enough to pass as black, in my opinion.

After what seemed like seconds, Ms. Sylvester was in my house and we were eating dinner. Sue kept asking me questions when, finally, _the_ question came up.

"So I'm only seeing you in the locker room before that prep class," she said, obviously referring to dance. I froze, my fork halfway to my mouth. "Why don't you take P.E.?"

_Crap crap _crap. Mom and Dad (I never called my stepdad by his real name, seeing as he was really like a father figure to me) both looked at me.

"Uh…I have a doctor's note," I said.

"Oh, is that what Dr. Morris wanted to see you for before we moved?" Mom asked. "To give you a doctor's note?"

"Uh, yeah," I lied, but Ms. Sylvester interrupted me by saying, "What, you weren't there when she went in, Nancy?"

"Our daughter's fourteen," Mom said. "We think she's old enough to go to a doctor or a dentist or to a barbershop by herself."

"Well, yes, Mrs. Tyler," Ms. Sylvester—my mother cringed; she was either Mrs. Widman or Mrs. Tyler-Widman, no one had ever just called her Mrs. Tyler and Ms. Sylvester would not be the first—said, "but I find it odd that you," she said, rounding on me, "can take dance but not P.E. with your injury. Why is that?"

"First off, it's for hypoglycemia—_chronic low blood sugar_—not an injury that I can't do P.E. Second, it's none of your business."

"But there must be a reason…"

"Can we please not discuss this at dinner?" I snapped. My mother shot me a look but I could tell that she, too, wished that Ms. Sylvester would just shut up. After dinner, Ms. Sylvester stood. "I'm sorry to ask, but does any of you have a computer I could use? I really need to write Miss Pillsbury an email and it can't really wait."

"Missy has a laptop," my mother said, obviously trying to torture me, or, as she called it, "be a parent".

"May I borrow it just for a few minutes, _Missy?_" Ms. Sylvester asked. I cringed. No one, other than Mom and Dad, _ever_ called me Missy.

"Sure," I said through my teeth, starting to head up the stairs to grab my laptop. Ms. Sylvester hollered after me that she'd be waiting in the living room.

When I met up with her in the living room, I quickly punched in my password and gave her my computer. I hoped she didn't mosey on over to the folder called "Missy's Private Thoughts". That was where I had my electronic diary, videos of me performing, lyrics to songs I wrote myself, and my letter to Artie, though every document was password protected, and it would be a miracle if she could guess the password.

She started to use my computer. Because I couldn't see what she was doing, I started biting my nails. At one point, she furrowed her brow and muttered, "What a load of crap."

"I'm sorry?" I asked.

"Nothing, sweetie, nothing." I did not like the way she said nothing—or sweetie, too, for that matter. Finally, she logged off, handing me my laptop back, and left.

* * *

An hour later I was in my room when I got a text message—my mother had finally caved and bought me a cell phone. I was hoping it'd be Gigi or Mercedes or maybe some other girl at the sleepover, but it was Kurt. His message was short and to the point: "Check out Bring Down New Directions on Tumblr."

I frowned. New Directions was the glee club. This couldn't be good. I got out my laptop, logged in, and quickly typed in the address. And waited. Finally, it loaded, and I gasped. The info about the creator of the blog said, "We're young. We're fine. Let's do some damage." The first post was titled, "Nerd Love", so I read it…and dropped my laptop in shock, because this is what the post said:

"New Directions has a new member. That's right, spunky Melissa Widman from California has moved to Lima and she's a member of the glee club, and it seems she seems to be in love with that half a person Artie Abrams, as she wrote him this love letter:

_Artie,_

_I'm not sure how to explain this, and I know odds are you'll never see this anyway, but still…I think I love you."_

That was all I read before my laptop fell to the ground. Because that was the letter. _My_ letter. The one I wrote to Artie and password protected "billyidol". Obviously, this was someone who had used my laptop. It had to be Sue Sylvester.

My phone rang. I picked it up, but, before I could say anything, the person on the other end started to speak.

"Ah, hell to the naw," Mercedes said.

"Mercedes?" I asked.

"Melissa, did you really write that?"

"Yes!" I groaned.

"How did Sylvester get it?"

"I don't know, she had dinner at my house today and she asked to use my laptop, and I did write that and gave it a password, but…" I froze. "Hold on a sec." I searched my binder and my bag. My note with my password on it was nowhere to be found. "She must have found the password to the document."

"Ah, hell to the naw," Mercedes repeated.

"Did Artie see it?" I asked breathlessly.

"Not that I know of," Mercedes said. I let out a sigh of relief. "But do you know how many members of glee club have called me and told me about it? And a lot of people who aren't in glee club have seen it, too. Odds are if he hasn't seen it already, he will."

_Crap crap _crap.

"I'm getting another call," I said weakly in a voice that wasn't my own. "I'll talk to you later, kay?"

"Peace."

I clicked the talk button and was put on the other line. "Hello?" I said in that same weak voice. Just as I started talking, the phone started beeping, telling me I had another call.

"Your boyfriend's a nerd!" said an obviously female voice that I recognized at once to belonging to Santana.

She hung up, so I took another call. "Hello?"

"You've got to be pretty fucked in the head to be crushing on a kid in a wheelchair." That was obviously Puck.

"All you glee club nerds can _die_." I had no idea who that was, but I didn't like it all the same. I flung the phone down and listened to it ring endlessly. By the time the sun went down thirty minutes later, I had seventeen missed calls. All of them had left a message on my voicemail.

If I thought I was in tears before, I was bawling by the time I got to the fifteenth voicemail. I was only half listening when I heard, "Hey, Melissa, it's Artie." Oh, great. _Just_ what I needed. "Um, listen, I know you're probably kind of dealing with a lot right now, but I just wanted to say I heard some things." I was suddenly interested, as obviously the "things" he had heard had nothing to do with him. "I heard something about…about Kurt." Now I was _really_ interested. "Um, see, I had heard that he was, well…he's confused. He's not really so sure that he's gay anymore because…" He paused. If he were there I'd probably punch him if he didn't hurry up and spit it out. "Because I heard he sort of has a crush on…on a girl. His _first_ crush on a girl, actually. And it's…it's on _you_. Well, uh…see you in geometry." And with that he hung up.

I was shocked and didn't listen to the other two people picking on me. Artie heard that Kurt Hummel—_gay _Kurt Hummel, I might add—had a crush on me. _Me._ Melissa Amanda Widman. What was so special about me that I would turn Kurt not gay? Maybe someone like Quinn, who was pretty and used to be popular despite being pregnant—well, even if she _was_ pregnant, she was still a hell of a lot more popular than me. Maybe _she_ could be the type of person to turn Kurt straight. But _me?_

* * *

**Dun dun duuuuuuun! OH, THE DRAMA! Poor Melissa… :( Aw well. Anyway, sorry for this crapfest of a chapter, though I think it was better than last chapter anyway. I want to review. NOW NOW NOW NOW **_**NOW.**_** Cause that's what she said. ;)**

**Oh, to my anonymous little 'friend', could you please keep reviews constructive from now on? I never said I had the best writing in the world, because honestly I don't. I don't really think anyone deserves that title because there so many incredible writers out there. But please try to keep criticism constructive, thank you.**


	4. Chapter 4

Here's what you missed on _Glee_.

Melissa gets Gigi to join glee club and Mercedes holds a slumber party with all the girls in the glee club to try make Melissa feel welcome in Lima but after a game of truth or dare goes wrong Melissa accidentally blurts out that she's in love with Artie making Tina feel really jealous even though she pretends she doesn't like Artie anymore.

Melissa accidentally drops her sticky note with her password to Artie's love letter on it in the locker room after dance and Sue Sylvester finds it and comes to have dinner with the Tyler-Widman family and asks to use Melissa's laptop so she can write an email to Miss Pillsbury but actually opens Artie's love letter using the password Melissa dropped and makes a blog called "Bring Down New Directions" where she posts Melissa's love letter and she becomes the laughing stock of McKinley High.

Artie tells Melissa that he was told that Kurt has his first ever crush on a female when he realizes he likes Melissa but is confused because he's in love with Finn and isn't sure if he's bisexual or gay.

And that's what you missed on _Glee_.

* * *

For the rest of the weekend, I didn't leave my room, other than to go to the bathroom. Mom and Dad were worried about me. Mom came up twenty times a day just to check up on me. I think she may have thought I was coming down with something. Dad came up three times, too. Once he brought me breakfast (seeing as I hadn't eaten at all that day) and another time (Mom sent him, no doubt) he tried to convince me to leave my room so he could take me to Kohl's and buy Avril Lavigne's new perfume. The offer was very tempting, seeing as I was desperate to get it, but I declined, going back to writing a song.

The last time he came up, he sat on the foot of my bed and said, "Okay, Missy, something's up. You're not leaving your room, you won't even go to Kohl's with me, and when your mom tried to bring you that new magazine, _Person_ or whatever it's called, you told her to just leave. And you're listening to that one band, the Jonas Cousins or whatever."

"Brothers, Dad," I corrected. For some reason, though I despised them, drowning out the sounds of everything with calls of "I'm freaking out" and "I'm burning up for you baby" seemed to help me.

"This isn't about a boy, is it?"

Ever since I was a little girl and being called "Missy" in public was still appropriate, I told my stepfather everything. Today was no different. "There's this guy at school, Artie," I said. "And, well, I kind of like him, but..." At that point, I couldn't take it anymore and burst into tears. My stepfather held me and told me that everything would be alright. He started to leave, but I stopped him, saying, "Please don't tell my mom." He looked at me momentarily.

"Won't tell a soul, Missy."

* * *

The next day was Monday, which meant I'd have to face McKinley. I chose to wear something that I wouldn't get taunts and jeers of "hey, freak" for wearing. With my closet, it was difficult. I haphazardly pulled my blonde hair into a ponytail before going down to the kitchen and grabbing a muffin.

"Good morning, Missy," my mother said. I smiled in reply, though it was a wasted effort, as she looked at me worriedly and shared a dark look with my stepfather.

Finally it was time for the awkward ride to school with Dad. He had apparently dug out my old copy of _Let Go_ by Avril Lavigne. I found it odd he'd play Avril Lavigne songs in his car, seeing as he considered it "Goth noise". I didn't dare ask him to turn it up. The only time I spoke to him was to ask if he'd change the song from _Losing Grip_ to _Complicated_. I let a few tears slip out of my eyes before Dad pulled up in front of McKinley.

"Have a good day, Missy," he said as I grabbed my bag.

"Highly unlikely," I said. It looked as though he was going to smile, but caught himself as I shut the door. I walked into the school, going straight to my locker. As I opened it, a mass of paper fell out. _How did I let my locker get so messy?_ I thought to myself, though rifling through the papers, I found they were all hate letters. I shoved them into a trashcan and pulled out my English book, going to class.

* * *

Class was pretty uneventful (other than being called names and being taunted, even by _teachers_, in the case of second period German, which consisted of me answering a question wrong and Mrs. Reynoso calling me a "Lust Fabrik, dumm du Mädchen", which, in case you didn't know, means "lust factory, you stupid girl") until geometry.

Kurt had ignored me at lunch, but kept giving me sympathetic glances, which, if what Artie said was true, made total sense. Finally, I went to Mr. Montague's class. Artie was already there. He looked up when I came in but pretty much ignored me until I sat down.

"Your eyes are red."

I turned. "What?"

"Have you been crying?" Artie asked. "Because your eyes are really red and bloodshot."

More out of habit than anything else, I quickly wiped under my right eye, which was wet. I lied. "Allergies."

I'm pretty sure he could tell I was lying.

In filed some jocks, who, thinking they were just hilarious, taunted me about how I sat next to "my lover". Artie remained surprisingly quiet through this. Finally, the bell rang, and I went to biology, which was almost as bad as geometry. Finally, the bell rang. It was time for glee club.

I was the first one there; it was awkward. Then Tina came in, then Mercedes, Kurt, Artie, and finally Puck. That's when things got really bad. I was sitting in my chair, looking at the clock and waiting for Mr. Schuester to arrive, when Puck stood over me. Artie, who happened to be attempting to tie his shoe to my right, looked over as Puck said, "Hey, look, nerd love."

"Shut up," I growled.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot, you're just the lust factory, aren't you?"

"Knock it off!" said a voice to my right. "Stop picking on her." Both Puck and I were shocked that Artie had actually put input into this conversation, and to help _me_, no less.

"Thanks," I mumbled after Puck stalked away as Mr. Schuester came in. "I guess it's your turn to help me, right?"

"After what happened in geometry, what was I supposed to do?"

I was quiet as Mr. Schuester said, "It has come to my attention that someone here at McKinley started a blog called Bring Down New Directions, and I have reason to believe that this person is affliated with the Cheerios."

"And apparently they don't like the lust fatory, either," Puck said from behind me. Several boys and even a girl or two snickered.

"That's _enough_," Mr. Schuester said. "I will _not_ tolerate name calling in glee club. The next person to call anyone in here anything other than their given name, they're leaving, and they can expect not to come back anytime soon." Puck leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. "Now, Mercedes and Quinn have already tried to help me solve the issue but pretty much every person in this school has heard about what was posted the other day." Mr. Schuester looked at me when he said this. "Now, I have no idea how whoever wrote this go ahold of that letter, but whoever it was, their intentions were obviously to do harm to poor Melissa here."

"They _have_ harmed Melissa," Rachel said. "At least emotionally they have. Everyone's been picking on her all day and I saw her sitting alone at lunch..." _Thanks Rachel,_ I thought.

"And I'm not happy about that," Mr. Schuester said. "McKinley takes bullying very seriously, _especially_ cyber bullying. If anyone—_anyone_—has _any_ information about this blog, they are to tell it to a teacher. Any information they keep private could just be causing more damage to any of you." The class was silent, and the rest of glee club was pretty uneventful. Finally we all started to leave. Just outside glee club, Artie stopped to try to tie his shoe again.

"Here," I said, bending down to help him. "Artie, look, I'm sorry—"

"Why are you sorry?" Artie asked, looking down at me. "You didn't mean for that letter to get posted."

I stopped, looking up at him. "You've seen it, then?"

"Well, you heard Mr. Schue...pretty much everyone has by now...you should have seen the library during lunch, everyone was trying to go on Tumblr to read it."

"Oh."

"So how are you?" Artie asked in attempt to make tortured conversation.

"Fine," I lied. "Just ecstatic." I finished tying Artie's shoe and stood.

"Listen, Melissa," he said as I tried to leave. I stopped, turning, and looked at him.

"Yeah?"

"Listen, that letter was really heartfelt and everything, but I'm kind of confused about my emotions right now, and I'm not sure if we can stay friends for the time being."

I tried to say "oh", but ended up blurting out, "I'm sorry, were we _ever_ friends? Because the last few days you seemed to really hate me."

"No, we were friends before the whole Tina incident..." Artie started. I could feel tears in the corners of my eyes. "Listen, Melissa, what I'm trying to say is that...maybe, until we get this whole thing sorted out...we should just stay fellow glee club members and not really talk to each other."

"So what you're trying to say is that we should ignore each other?"

"Well, not in so many words, but yeah."

"Oh." I started to turn away. "Well...bye, then."

He stared after me as I walked off. When I got to my house I flung down my stuff, went up to my room, and started to cry buckets. I had been in Lima a short time and already my life there was ruined. Why'd I have to write that stupid letter in the first place? Or tell the girls at the sleepover how I had felt? If I hadn't opened my big mouth or used my stupid computer, I wouldn't be in this mess. I cranked up the saddest songs I could find on iTunes (of course, Avril Lavigne's _Happy Ending _and _Nobody's Home_ made the list) to try to drown out the noise of my tears. Mom and Dad seemed to get the message. After a while Dad brought up some of Ben and Jerry's ice cream and a spoon for me.

The song that finally got to me was _Take a Bow _by Rihanna. During that song, I opened Windows Internet Explorer and went on Tumblr. I started a blog I called "Confessions of a Loveless Teenager".

_Hello, boys and girls, "Sasha" here. I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, but probably the biggest mistake I ever made was falling in love with "Ben". That, my friends, is when my life became a living hell._

I'm not sure where the words came from, but once I started typing, I couldn't stop.

_If you came here hoping to find some teenage girl talking about how she wished she could bake a cake of rainbows and happiness and we'd all eat it and be happy, you've come to the wrong place. Seeing as it doesn't look as though I'll be truly happy for a while, this is the place to come to find out about one fourteen-year-old girl and how much she loves a guy that knows she exists for all the wrong reasons._

_Yeah, we'd make an odd couple. But I can dream. I'm sure most of you have been through a bad break-up before, the kind of break-up that makes you want to go to that person's house, steal everything of value you find in their bedroom, hack their MySpace page and write a bunch of crap on it, or just makes you want to kick someone really hard where it hurts. But I've never been through one of those break-ups. Because I've never been through a break-up. Most people just tend to ignore me. I was kidding myself when I fell for "Ben". _

_I'm not going through a break-up. This is what it feels like to be heartbroken._

I logged off then. I couldn't bear to write anymore.

* * *

The next morning before school I had over a hundred followers. I didn't dare ask why; I just assumed most people _had_ been through a bad break-up before and could relate to how I felt with "Ben", who obviously was Artie.

When I got to glee club, Mercedes cornered me. It turns out Mr. Schuester wanted her and Artie to sing a duet and she said that while they were working on it, she'd talk to him about at least being my friend. That day I rushed home and wrote on my blog.

_Yesterday when I wrote about how I was heartbroken, I was jacked up on artifical confidence one can only call Ben and Jerry's ice cream and I was listening to the world's saddest songs about lost love and break-ups._

_Today, however, I have happier news. Maybe. My friend "Anna" is going to talk to Ben for me. She said that maybe she could reason with him and try to convince him that he's being stupid, that I'm honestly a nice girl if he would just take the time to get to know me._

_I have to hand it to "Anna". I'm not that nice. I don't even know why "Anna" would consider me a friend. I find myself annoying and a waste of breath. However, maybe everything will go according to plan and Ben won't hate me anymore. Maybe everything will just be okay. Maybe. A girl can dream._

How very wrong I was.

* * *

The next day in glee club Mercedes came up to me again. "Uh...I have some bad news," she said, "and I'm going to sugar coat it with my chocolate thunder, but it'll still really hurt." I waited. "Melissa...Artie wants to get back together with Tina."

"W-w-_what?_" I asked. I had to have heard her wrong. There was no way she was telling the truth. However, looking at Artie, he was acting very friendly and sitting very close to Tina during glee club. I didn't hear half the words coming out of Mr. Schuester's mouth. I just wanted to leave. What with the way Artie was acting with Tina, I had a legitimate reason. He seemed to be very laid back with her. Finally, I pretended my mom had texted me to remind me of my dentist's appointment that afternoon. Mr. Schuester gave me a knowing look but let me leave anyway, telling me to "take care". I left, crying the entire way home.

_Hello, boys and girls, it's Sasha again. I know that a teenage crush probably won't mean much in ten yeas, but I can't take it anymore. Anna told me what I saw with my own eyes. I saw Ben with this other girl today. "Chloe", let's call her. I knew that Ben used to like "Chloe" in the past, but I never knew he could be this close to a girl. I had been hoping that, had he ever been close to a girl, that girl'd be me._

_However, that's only a dream now. Ben obviously doesn't love me and never will. Not when he's got his hands all over "Chloe" (alright, they never touched. But they might as well have been touching. It looked like he wanted to suck her face off). I totally got the message, Ben: You don't care about me. You don't care what happens to me. I mean nothing to you. If I wanted to, I could fall in a hole and die for you all care._

_Well, I'm getting the message, Ben. Thank you to my 257 followers, but this will probably be my last post, even though I only posted here three times, counting this one. I don't know how I got 257 followers, but all 257 of you are the witnesses of my death._

_Well, obviously, you won't see it. But I've got some friends. They're called "pills". I'm going to take some pills and then I won't have to deal with Ben and "Chloe" anymore. Whoever actually cares about me doing this can burn in hell. Depending on your religion, I may see you there. Because "Sasha" is signing off for the last time._

_And no, you'll never know who I am. Although if you live near me you'll know who I am when I don't turn up at school or our after school club tomorrow._

_Good-bye._

* * *

**Oh the drama. If you can guess what happens next, you are officially a cheater. Because oh yes next chapter is eventful. If you guess more than two things that happen, I will find out where you live and eat all of your stuffed animals heads, oh yes, I'm bad. ;)**

**-Hatter**


	5. Chapter 5

Here's what you missed on _Glee_.

After "Bring Down New Directions" is posted Mercedes and Quinn with the help of Mr. Schue try to delete the blog but it wouldn't do good anyway because everyone has already heard of Melissa's love letter for Artie and is making fun of her for it.

Artie is confused over his feelings for Melissa so he tells her he doesn't want to be friends but acquaintances for the time being and Melissa is heart broken and starts a blog called "Confessions of a Loveless Teenager" which gets a thousand hits a day but no one at McKinley realizes it's her because she changes everyone's names.

Mercedes sings a duet with Artie and promises Melissa she'll talk to him for her but that backfires when Artie and Tina try to get back together and Melissa writes on "Confessions of a Loveless Teenager" that she's planning on killing herself.

And that's what you missed on _Glee_.

* * *

_I just wanted to say I know I said that I was suicidal because of Ben. That's not entirely true._

_I just recently moved to where I am, and before I moved, I was a loner. Everyone ignored me, and I ignored everyone back. It was the only thing I could think of doing. But then I moved here, and I made friends (or so I thought). The girls here were nice, along with a couple of boys. There were people I could trust, and people that could trust me. But that's when the bullying started._

_Ever since I was younger I would be bullied at school and I hoped that by moving here I could change that. It didn't exactly work that way. There was this huge scandal with Ben. And now everyone's making fun of me and harrassing me._

_And another thing: I have no idea how my biological father is, because all my life, or since I was three months old, anyway, Mom's been married to this guy that isn't my father. He acts like one and raises me like his own child, but I'm not, and I never will be, even though he's exactly like a father figure to me._

_There have been times in my life where I wish I could curl up in a hole and die. And it seems now I've got my wish. So this is me logging off (really) for the last time._

I logged off my blog and went downstairs. Mom and Dad weren't home yet. _Good, _I thought, smiling. Odd I'd be smiling with everything that was about to happen_._ I went to the medicine cabinet and grabbed the first bottle of pills I found, not bothering to look at the label, and headed to the bathroom. If I wanted them to know what happened, I'd have to be in the first place they'd look.

* * *

Glee club ended and everyone started to shuffle out of the classroom. Artie left, wondering why Melissa seemed to be in tears when she announced she had a dentist appointment. He was halfway down the hall when he heard two familiar voices behind him.

"I'm telling you, something's up with her!"

"Well, I kind of expected that, seeing as her private, personal thoughts have been posted online without so much as a word of consent from her!"

"My God, Finn, you can be such an airhead sometimes!"

Artie turned around and found Finn and Kurt having a very heated discussion. Checking to make sure no one was watching, he went towards them.

"I'm dealing with a lot right now, and I don't need to add a suicidal glee club girl to that!"

"What are you talking about?" Artie said, announcing his arrival.

"Stay out of this!" Finn barked.

"Shut up, Finn!" Kurt said. "He has a right to know, seeing as this concerns him!"

"What are you talking about?" Artie repeated, even more annoyed than he already was.

"Melissa's planning on committing suicide."

There was a shocked silence that followed Kurt's words. Finally Artie managed to stammer, "H-how do you know?"

"It's on her blog."

"Melissa has a blog?"

"Well, she's claiming to be a girl named Sasha but yes, she has a blog. I figured out it was her with her first post when she put the name Sasha in quotation marks. She updated a few minutes ago. She said that she's tired of you and Tina."

"Wait, how do you know it's me and Tina?"

"She calls you "Ben" and "Chloe" but she's definitely referring to you." He turned to Finn. "Think the library's still open?"

Finn frowned. "We have a library?"

Kurt smacked Finn's arm. "Just come on!" he said, leading the other two to the library. The librarian told them to make whatever they wanted quick, so as soon as possible Kurt took a seat at a computer and went onto Melissa's blog. He clicked the link to get to the second most recent entry, not bothering to look at the first, and moving over so Artie could have a look.

He read through it quickly, but kept rereading the last parts, especially "_Well, I'm getting the message, Ben."_

He turned after he finished reading. He had about twenty questions, but couldn't get himself to say even one. "Why...how...did...who..."

"Are you planning on finishing any of those questions?" Kurt asked. "Well, are you just going to sit there or are you going to do something?"

"How'd you know she posted this?" Artie said, finally able to finish a question.

"I always read what she writes, even though this was only her third post. When she just left glee club unexpectedly, I knew something was up, so I checked on here and confirmed my suspicions."

"You know you kind of freak me out sometimes," Finn said.

"I know." He stood. "First things first, we've got to stop her from doing this." The two others nodded in agreement. "Second, we've got to convince her that this doesn't suck as majorly as she thinks." Artie was hesitated but eventually agreed. "And third, I think, to finish it off, she's got to start seeing a counselor."

"Counselor?" Artie asked in disbelief.

"You mean like a therapist?" Finn asked.

"That's exactly what I mean."

* * *

I sat in the bathroom and kept staring at the pills next to me. I'd never be able to do it; I'd been waiting long enough. Suddenly I heard the door open. Crap, Mom and Dad couldn't be back so soon. With shaking hands I grabbed the bottle and started to undo the cap when the door to the bathroom was thrown open and I dropped the bottle. However, to my shock, my parents weren't waiting at the door.

Kurt, Artie, and Finn were waiting at the door.

"What are you doing here?" I spat at them vehemently.

"What are _we_ doing, what are _you_ doing?" Kurt asked.

"I just so happen to live here!" I said back bitterly.

"Actually, I think you were planning on_ not_ living here," Finn said.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about!" Finn said, picking the bottle up from where I dropped it on the floor. "Melissa, these are pills! You were planning on killing yourself!"

"No, I wasn't!" I lied, wondering how on earth the three of them knew that.

"So, what, you were planning on taking a nap in the bathroom?" Kurt asked. I mentally facepalmed myself. In my haste I had grabbed _sleeping pills_. Of course, the kind I grabbed wouldn't be enough to kill me unless I had the full bottle. When I grabbed it, it was only about half-full.

"Uh..." I said stupidly.

"Is this because of me?" Artie said, finally saying something.

"Because a boy is a pretty stupid reason to kill yourself," Kurt said.

"Alright, you know what?" I snapped, finally losing control and letting tears slip out of my eyes. I had promised myself I would never cry in front of Kurt, my best friend; Artie, the person I was sure to be in love with; and Finn, just another football player that when need be was kind of scary. It seemed as though I would be breaking that promise. "Yes, it had something to do with you, but there are other reasons! I'm tired of everything that's been going on the past few days! I can't even go down the hall without being called "the lust factory"! And when I lived in Sanger no one knew I existed! Or if they_ did_ know, they were bullying me! And I don't even know who my real dad is! All I know is that he ran off when my mother told him she was pregnant and that he lives in Louisiana now and he doesn't even care to know that I exist!" I buried my face in my hands when Kurt grabbed my hand, stood me up, and let me cry into his shoulder, his arms wrapped around me and one of his hands rubbing my back.

Artie was not looking at me, a look of shock on his face, and Finn was inspecting the bottle of pills. In the silence that followed, filled only by the sounds of my sobbing, Kurt whispered in my ear, "Starting on Monday you're going to start seeing Miss Pillsbury, the counselor."

I shoved him roughly away. "The _counselor?_ You mean like a therapist? A person who listens to my problems but doesn't help get rid of them? Yeah, because that'd do me a world of good!"

"You need help," Artie said, speaking for only the second time since they got there.

"And what's Miss Pillsbury going to do about it? You think she can help take away the pain that I'm feeling? Because that's a load of bull. And you guys better leave before my parents get home and find me standing in a bathroom with three guys."

"I'm _gay,_" Kurt said.

"And that makes a difference?"

Bitterly, the three left, leaving me alone with my thoughts. _Suicide,_ what was I thinking? True, I had dealt with a lot of crap in my life, but suicide was so not the answer. Bitterly, I told myself that I had Miss Pillsbury on Monday to look forward to.

* * *

On Tuesday, the day after my first appointment with Miss Pillsbury (and that was an experience, let me tell you), I was leaving geometry when a couple of girls cornered me.

"Um, hello," I said.

"You should join the academic decathlon team," one of them told me happily.

"It's really fun," the other person said. "It's an elective, and each year we study three subjects and go to a bunch of tournaments and meets and stuff, and we're all kind of like a dysfunctional family."

_Dysfunctional?_

"Thanks, but no thanks," I said. "I'd have to give up an elective and I'd have to quit glee club, wouldn't I?"

"Um..." the first said. "Y-yeah, that's kind of how it works."

"Well, no thank you, then. I'm perfectly happy not being on the academic decathlon team."

"But..." the second girl said. "But it'd be great to have a freshman on the team!"

"Then find another freshman," I said, "because I'm _really_ not interested."

Biology went by unbelievably slowly that day. For some reason I felt really cold, even though it wasn't cold at all. This feeling was then replaced with numbness. My vision got very blurred and I got a killer headache, and I started shaking. At first I thought I was shaking because I was cold, but I wasn't cold anymore. I went to glee club, nearly stumbling over my own two feet there.

I sank into a chair and buried my face in my hands as people started coming in. Artie came in, saw me, and took a deep breath, then came over to me. "Melissa, can we talk?"

"Go," I said, taking my face out of my hands.

"What?"

"Just talk, Artie."

"Well, I...are you okay? Your breathing is irregular, you know that, right?"

"Yeah." I actually didn't know that, but I wasn't planning on telling anyone that. A few people looked over.

"Oh, my God, you're really pale," Artie said.

"I'm always really pale, Artie."

"But this is pale, even for you."

"What did you want to tell me?" I asked, just wishing he'd hurry the eff up.

"What? Oh. Right. Well, uh, I've been thinking."

"Very good, Artie."

He continued on, ignoring what I had just said. "Well, I've, uh, been thinking that just maybe I was...was being stupid earlier with what I said to you, you know...about not wanting to be friends."

I felt as though I was going to pass out when I said, "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that I'm sorry," Artie said, "and I wanted to know whether you were doing anything Fri..."

That was the last thing I heard (other than someone shouting my name) before everything went black.

* * *

**Cliffhanger, whoop dee doo. You gotta love 'em. :DD You know I do. Well I think Missy's made a great turn around, don't you? :D Well. Um. Review. And uh. Stuff. Yeah.**

**-Hatter**


	6. Chapter 6

Here's what you missed on _Glee_.

Melissa says on her blog that she's going to kill herself because she loves Artie but Artie, Finn, and Kurt figure out that "Sasha" is really Melissa trying to vent about how she loves Artie but Artie doesn't love her and they set her up to see the guidance counselor, Miss Pillsbury.

After Melissa comes out of her depression she gets invited to join the Academic Decathlon team but turns them down because she'd have to give up an elective and glee and she can't give up glee for academics even though grades are the most important thing to her.

Artie realizes that he kind of likes Melissa too and starts to ask her out on a date when Melissa passes out during glee and has to be rushed to the hospital.

And that's what you missed on _Glee_.

* * *

_Low. Blood sugar. Hypoglycemia. Melissa. Hospital. Glee club. 911. Rehearsal. Okay. Wheelchair. Artie. Missy. Widman. Thank you. Bed. Rest. Blood. School. No. Test. Sugar. Glucose. IV. Doctor. Visiting. Home._

My mind was racing everywhere in my sleep. Was that what this feeling was? Sleep? Because it was the weirdest nap I had ever had then. I heard breathing besides me. It was probably the cat, Luna, coming to remind me that she was hungry. It wasn't like I ever forgot to _feed_ her; she ate too much as it was.

I started to reach out to shove her away from me, but where my bed should have ended and my cat should have been, there was a rail. _What the...?_

I opened my eyes a crack. Instead of finding myself in bed, I was in a hospital room. And I was the patient. I was freaking out. I couldn't see well, but someone had taken my glasses off. I'd have to thank them for that later.

And than the weirdest thing happened.

I looked to my left to grab my glasses and instead of seeing them (although they _were_ on the table next to me), I saw Artie in his wheelchair doing homework.

_I'm hallucinating,_ I told myself. _I'm going crazy._

"A-Artie?" I squeaked out, trying to see if he'd respond. If I was going crazy and just imagining his presence, I decided, he wouldn't say anything.

However, I wasn't going crazy, as at that moment, Artie looked up. "Hi," he said bashfully.

"What's going on?" I asked, reaching out for my glasses but still looking at him.

He handed them to me. "You sort of passed out during glee club," he said quietly.

"You're funny."

"I'm serious. You were just sitting in a chair one moment and the next you passed out. Mr. Schuester had to call 911. You passed out," he repeated, seeing as he could probably tell I still didn't believe him.

Still skeptic, I asked, "So if I only passed out then why am I in a hospital?"

"You're hypoglycemic, right?"

He didn't even need to finish; instead, I said, "Oh." I bit my lip. Immediately, though, my mouth fell slightly open as I got a good look at the small desk next to the bed. It was covered with stuffed animals, flowers, and cards.

"You've got a fan club," Artie said, finally smiling.

"Who..." I started.

"Glee club," Artie said. "All of them. Well, except Puck. He still calls you the "lust factory". Even Mr. Schue was here."

I was speechless. _All_ of glee club? Except Puck? That was amazing. I had no idea that they cared so much about me.

In the corner of the room was a wheelchair. "Is...is that a _wheelchair?_" I asked.

"Yes, Melissa, in case you haven't noticed I can't walk," Artie said sarcastically.

"Not you, you drip, _that, _in the corner."

Artie looked in the corner of the room. "Yeah, that's a chair," he said. "Why?"

It almost seemed like he was threatening me, so I said, smirking, "Wanna have a wheelchair race?"

"You? Me? A _wheelchair_ race? Please. I could beat you with my hands tied behind my back. I've had eight years of experience."

"That sounds like a challenge, Mr. Abrams. You're on."

Three minutes and one wheelchair later, Artie and I were racing down the halls. I was so glad that this place seemed deserted; we probably would have been up to our ears in trouble if someone caught us. Suddenly, without warning, the hall took a sharp left turn, and I barely moved in time, avoiding a collision with a wall. Needless to say, Artie was winning.

Finally, we both skidded to a halt in front of an elevator. I was very pink in the face from laughing. "That's so unfair," I said in mock anger. "You _cheated!_"

"Sorry, _little girl_," Artie said tauntingly, "but I've had eight years of experience. And when you almost face planted into a wall it was kind of obvious who was going to win here."

"I wouldn't have almost become friendly with that wall if your big, fat head didn't get in my line of vision," I said in a joking voice. "Seriously, there needs to be, like, turn signals and brake lights on these. Maybe I could have beat you that way by watching your chair."

Artie smiled. "You're ridiculous. I would have just broken "the law" by not bothering with those." There was a moment of silence following this. "Uh, you know, we never finished our conversation in glee club."

"What conversation?"

"You know, right before you blacked out."

"I hate to break it to you, but I don't remember anything after the bell rang after seventh period. I was really out of it."

"Oh, well, uh...are you doing anything Friday?"

"School. Glee club. Homework. Maybe work on that paper do on Monday when I got the assignment the first day I was here. Why?"

"Cause, uh, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go...go on a date or something."

_I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming. I'm _dreaming. _Please don't let me wake up._

"Sure. I can just cheat off Gigi for that assignment, anyway. Well, then again, Gigi's not exactly the brightest crayon in the box. She's convinced that Ecuador is how you get into an Ecua." Artie laughed. "I'm serious."

"Oh." He considers for a moment, then shakes his head. "So, uh, Friday."

"What is last day of the school week?"

"You're funny. I mean what should we do Friday?"

"I don't know. Movies, I guess?"

"You have _not_ seen a movie until you sit in the handicapped section."

I laughed. "Well...see you Friday, then?"

* * *

The next morning I left the hospital. My doctor wanted me to take it easy for a day or two, so I stayed at home on the couch (Mom insisted) on my laptop while Mom came in to check on me every half hour or so, even though I insisted I was fine and didn't need so much attention. "I'm fourteen," I reminded her, "not _four._"

After school the doorbell rang while Mom was out shopping and Dad was at work (Mom actually took a personal day and stayed home to check on me even though I kept telling her to just leave). As Mom wasn't there to answer the door, I got up and answered it. It was Kurt. I assumed he was bringing me my homework, but instead he said, "You. Me. Walk. Now."

"Let me grab a jacket," I said, going to my room quickly and finding my Abbey Road Beatles jacket and my new Abbey Dawn sneakers, throwing them on before going with Kurt. "So what's up?" I asked after a few minutes.

"Well, I'm gay," Kurt said.

"I think we've already established that, Kurt."

"Ha ha," he said back. "No, what I mean is, I _think_ I'm gay." I was dreading what came next if what Artie told me a few days ago was true. "But I think I may be getting a crush on someone. Who isn't a guy."

"So, who is it, then?" I asked, still dreading Kurt's next words. "Who's the lucky lady who gets your heart?"

"Well, it's you, Melissa."

"Very funny, Kurt."

"I'm serious, Melissa."

"Well, don't be!" I said. "I love you, Kurt, but as a brother! I don't want to get romantically involved with anyone right now!"

"Except Artie."

"Shut up!" I said, growing angrier by the second. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! I don't want to be romantically involved with anyone. I just want to make friends and be a normal girl and...and fit in!"

"Why do you try so hard to fit in when you are born to stand out?"

"_Because,_ Kurt. At Faulkner it was weird to stand out! I'd prefer to just fit in for a while!" He was obviously angry. "I don't like you, I just like that you like me." I started to step away. "I mean, this is really flattering, having someone like me like this, but seriously, Kurt. No."

"So how do you explain your date with Artie on Friday?"

I stopped, turning red very fast. "How do you know that?"

"Oh, please. Your friend just about told everyone in glee club. He can't keep his big mouth shut."

"For your information Artie and I had a good time when he came to visit me yesterday, so I decided it'd be fine to go on a date with him! You, on the other hand, are _gay._ You shouldn't have crushes on girls, especially me. There's nothing extraordinary about me. I'm a loser!"

"We're _all_ losers," Kurt said, "and your friend wouldn't know a good time if it sat on his face."

I was burning with anger, so I ran home and flopped on the couch. Artie was right about Kurt. He had just admitted it. Why did he have to be so right?

About ten minutes later my parents came home. Mom asked if everything was okay while I was gone. I said everything was fine. Mom went into the kitchen to unload groceries. I still sat on the couch, but then I announced, "Oh, Mom...could you drive me and a...a _friend_ to the movies on Friday?"

"Why?"

"Because," I said hesitantly, not wanting to admit it. "Because I have a date Friday."

_Crash._

Crap.

"What?" Mom asked, running into the kitchen as Dad bounded down the stairs. He obviously heard the crash, whatever it was.

"Where's the burglar?" he asked stupidly.

"Did I hear you correctly, Missy?" Mom asked. "Did you say you have a _date_ Friday night?"

"Uh, yeah." Dad looked about ready to kill someone.

"Who is he?" both he and Mom said at the same time.

"A guy in glee club," I said. "His name's Artie."

"Why can't Artie give you a ride?" Mom asked.

"He doesn't exactly have a licence."

"Can't you _walk?_ The movie theater's not far."

"Uh, Mom? Artie's in a wheelchair."

"Oh!" She was turning red.

"But he's handicapable," I threw out. "Like seriously." Dad gave me a weird look. "He's paraplegic, Dad. He still has hands."

"Oh," Mom and Dad said together. Mom finished by saying, "Yes. I'll give you a ride."

* * *

Half an hour before Mom and I were supposed to pick up Artie, I was in my bedroom trying on clothes, trying to figure out what to wear. Finally, I threw something on and turned to Gigi, who was on my bed. "How do I look?"

"Like a before picture in an ad for geek remover," she said. I threw a pillow at her. "Come on, just pic _something_. It's not like you're going on a date with some rich moneybag."

"Might as well be," I said. "I'm nervous as hell." Gigi gave me a weird look, so I explained, "It's the first time I've ever been on an actual date."

She nodded. "Just wear what you have on. I'm sure Artie will be fine with whatever you wear." I nodded in agreement when Gigi finally left and Mom loaded me up in the car. She let me get out and meet Artie.

"Bye, Mom!" he called over his shoulder.

"Sorry I'm late," I apologized. "I couldn't decide what to wear."

"It's cool," he said. A few minutes later he, too, was in the car. Mom was driving when a speeding pizza truck came rushing before us. She honked the horn angrily, muttering something about how the guy was delivering food, it wasn't like he was an ambulance driver. "We live in a society where pizza gets to our house faster than the police," Artie said, as though this was a normal conversation. She glanced at him in the rear view mirror but kept driving.

Her GPS informed us that there was an accident about a mile ahead of us. "You know," Artie said to my mom, "kids in the back seat cause accidents."

I looked at him for a moment before saying, "Accidents in the back seat cause kids."

Mom slammed on the brakes, nearly causing a pile up herself. "_MELISSA AMANDA WIDMAN!_"

"Sorry, Mom."

She dropped us off at the theater and we went to our seats. Artie was totally right. The view from sitting in the handicapped section was like being at an IMAX theater. Finally, the movie ended, and I pulled out my phone, trying to call Mom three times. "Ugh," I groaned. "Well, I guess we'll have to walk...uh, roll...uh..."

"I know what you mean," Artie said. "For your sake, just say 'walk'." I nodded and we left. It was getting dark out by the time we were close to my house and we were laughing and talking like we did during my hospital stay. Finally, I asked, "What's your favorite song you ever sang for glee club?"

"It wasn't really _for_ glee, but because of it, but once I sang an acoustic version of Billy Idol's _Dancing With Myself._"

My mouth dropped open. "I _love_ Billy Idol," I said. We continued to talk and finally, we reached my house. "Don't go yet," I said. "There's something I need to tell you."

"What?"

"I know because of what happened the other day you'd think that I'm not taking P.E. for good reasons, but I've been feigning my illness. Like, it's not as bad as I make it seem. I just had this really bad experience at Faulkner and ever since I haven't wanted to take place in any physical activity." I waited for his response.

"Well, great," he said, starting to leave. "Great. Now _you_ get to be normal, but I'm going to be stuck in this chair for the rest of my life, and I can't fake that. And I've _been_ on a date with someone who lies, and it hurts. I thought you were different." And with that, he started to leave.

"Artie, wait!" But there was no need to say it. He was already gone. I let myself into the house. "Missy!" my mother said. "You should have called. I would have given you and your friend a ride home."

"I _did _call," I said, "_three_times." Mom asked how the date went. "It was fine," I said, remembering how Artie and I had laughed when some guy had his guts blown out on screen, though in retrospect it wasn't that funny. "But I'd really like to be alone right now." With that, I went up the stairs to my room, took out my laptop, and, opening iTunes, played Billy Idol's _Dancing With Myself, _letting a few tears fall.

* * *

**Yeah sorry that was so long. I apologize. Really. But uh. Yeah. I really liked the wheelchair race, ahaha. :) Please review.**

**-Hatter**


	7. Chapter 7

Here's what you missed on _Glee_.

Melissa wakes up in the hospital after having a hypoglycemia attack and finds out that Artie's been waiting at her bedside for her to wake up for hours and all of glee club has been in to see her at some point with the exception of Puck who really doesn't like her.

Kurt tells Melissa how he feels about her and Melissa doesn't really know how to respond because Artie told her that Kurt was gay so she says that she loves Kurt like a brother but isn't sure she wants to get romantically involved with him.

Melissa leaves the hospital and Artie and Melissa go on their first date but Artie breaks up with Melissa because he finds out she's using hypoglycemia to get her out of P.E. and says that he doesn't like it when people fake ailments.

And that's what you missed on _Glee._

* * *

"Do you think we should do something?"

"She won't come out of her room. I think that's a bad sign."

"Get a grip, John!"

I sighed. I hated it when my parents fought like this. Although it wasn't often, my parents could get angry when need be. And they were definitely angry now.

A few minutes later there was a knock at my door. "Missy?" my father was saying.

"Come in," I said, Googling the book _The Good Earth _by Pearl S. Buck, trying to find some helpful information that'd point me in the right direction for that stupid assignment. Mrs. Kress insisted that since I was here when she gave the assignment I'd have to do _something_, even though I hadn't even heard of the book before, let alone read it. Great teachers McKinley has.

I was halfway through a length article when Dad came in, carrying a mug of hot chocolate that Mom had undoubtedly made to try to make me feel better, if the cinnamon and marshmallows on top meant anything. He sat on my bed and said, "Alright, Missy, something's up. You've been playing that Goth music again..."

"Avril Lavigne is hardly Goth, Dad," I said bitterly. True, she did almost give off the appearance, but the Avril Lavigne music I was playing didn't even come _close_ to Gothic. "If you want Goth, you should hear some of my Evanescence stuff, and I think that's more properly defined as being scene than Goth."

Dad paused. Obviously he didn't know who Avril Lavigne or Evanescence were. He sighed and said, "Well, you've been playing this...this Avril Lavigne stuff, never left your room...this isn't about a boy, is it?"

This was the second time he'd had to ask me in about a week. I could feel a tear trickling down my cheek as I said, "Two, actually." I went back to typing my essay. "But you really don't want to hear about some teenage girl's problems with boys."

"What did this Arthur kid say to you?"

"_Artie,_ Dad, Artie," I corrected. "And it was my fault, anyway. What he said doesn't really matter. It'll never matter," I added sadly.

"Don't beat yourself up, Missy," Dad said. "There'll be other boys." There was an awkward silence before Dad said, "Who's the other bastard I have to talk to?"

I smiled slightly and said, "His name's Kurt, but it doesn't really matter. I'm sure you don't want to hear the musings of a fourteen-year-old girl and her boy troubles, especially not a boy in a wheelchair and another boy who's gay."

"Artie's gay?"

"No, Kurt's gay, but now's not really a good time. I have homework." Dad nodded and left. I grabbed the mug of hot chocolate and took a drink, trying hard to finish my essay.

* * *

The next day was slightly better. I sat with Kurt and a few people from glee at lunch (including Artie and Tina; Artie seemed to ignore my mere existence) and we were having a really nice conversation before the bell rang.

"Ah, piss," I said. "I have geometry now, and I heard we have a sub today." I was miserable. We were actually getting to new information, the first time since I arrived in Lima. Everything before was something we had covered before I left California.

"Mr. Montague?" Rachel asked. I nodded. "Yeah, you do, and she's terrible." I could hear Artie sighing. We had geometry together and obviously he was hoping the actual teacher would be there. He miserably rolled off in the direction of the classroom.

I miserably climbed the stairs to the geometry room, still wondering how Artie made it here everyday, and opened the door, sitting down. Written on the board in horrible handwriting was the name "Mrs. Collins". An elderly lady sat at Mr. Montague's desk. She seemed to not want to be there as much as we did. She took roll and told us that she hadn't done geometry in fourty years (I believed that) and told us to just do the assignment for homework. She also let us talk as long as we weren't too loud.

Unfortunately, the only people I knew in geometry were Artie, who as far as I knew would never want to speak to me again, and a girl named Ramona, who hated the fact that I existed. The only reason I knew her was because she was a Cheerio and got a bunch of football players to throw me in the trash after the love letter scandal.

I was doodling absentmindedly in my notebook. I was finishing the hair on Galinda (yes, I was drawing an anime version of the _Wicked_ cast) when I heard a voice, obviously male, besides me. "You're a good artist."

I turned. Artie was watching me draw. "Yeah?" I said, glad he was acknowledging the fact that I was alive. I looked over the drawing briefly and said, "Well, this is bad, even for me."

"It would be bad if it was a stick figure."

"Have you ever seen a fat stick figure?" I asked, hoping we'd actually get along.

"Um, no," he said. "You should try to draw one," he added, clearly joking.

"I'll make a mission of it." I thought for a moment. "If I _did_ draw a fat stick figure, would you want it?"

"I doubt it'd be a stick figure though if it wasn't...you know, a stick."

"Well yeah. Maybe it'd be a tree figure. You know...stick, trees?" Obviously my joke wasn't as funny as I had anticipated.

He raised his eyebrows. "_Wicked?_" he asked after a moment of silence, examining my notebook.

"Uh huh," I said, shading in Elphaba's hair. "Only the best musical ever written."

"Ah." It felt slightly awkward that he was watching me draw, but I continued anyway. "Good to know." He continued to watch me for a moment. I felt really awkward drawing Nessarose, Elphaba's simply gorgeous sister, because in _Wicked_, she was in a wheelchair. I was afraid it might hurt Artie's feelings, but I decided to risk it and draw her anyway. He was unfazed. I finally finished the drawing and signed my name at the bottom. I noticed Artie still watching me.

At long last, I couldn't bear the silence anymore. "I have more if you'd like to see," I blurted out. He seemed to be waiting, so I handed him my sketchbook.

He flipped through the pages and handed it back to me. "I'm starting to see a theme," he said. "You seem to be fascinated with Broadway plays. _Guys and Dolls, Les Mis, Rent, Wicked,_ am I right?"

I blushed slightly. "Um, yeah," I admitted.

"And they're always anime style," he added.

"The only way I know _how_ to draw," I said.

"Ah." The bell rang. "So when will I get my fat stick figure?" he asked, watching me shove my sketchbook in my bookbag.

"Possibly glee club, if you're lucky," I said, standing and going to biology.

_I'm dreaming,_ I thought, going back to my locker. _There's no way Artie Abrams thinks I'm talented._ It was practically torture having him watch me draw. I could tell he was on the fence of whether he liked me or not.

And that's when Kurt showed up.

I was halfway through digging through my stuff and finding my biology book when I heard it. "_Ahem._" I turned.

"Oh, hey, Kurt," I said, turning back to my locker. "Hey, you haven't seen my biology book, have you? I had it at lunch, accidentally grabbed it with my geometry book..."

"What the hell, Melissa?" I turned back to Kurt, slightly shocked.

"What?"

"You went on a date with _Artie?_"

"Um, yeah," I said. "Didn't we already go through this?"

"So what if we did," Kurt said. "You and I know point blank he wasn't interested, and he's _still_ not."

"Yeah, and...?" I said. Kurt had a really bad habit of not getting to the point soon enough. It didn't seem to be going in my favor this time, either. As I finally found my biology book, hidden under my enormous English book, I noticed Kurt was still there. I closed my locker and said, "Alright, Kurt. I give. What?"

"You went behind my back when I was confused and went on a date with that...cripple," he said.

"Enough with the name calling," I said, disgusted with the way Kurt was acting. "And how is it going 'behind your back'? It's not like _we_ were ever a thing. And good news for you, Artie and I aren't either. You got your wish."

"I don't want you to be unhappy," Kurt said.

"Well you're doing a heck of a job showing it," I said, shoving my book into my bag.

"Listen Melissa. We should stay friends."

"Weren't we _already?_" I asked.

However, Kurt ignored me. "I'll always have Finn to fall back on, anyway." Suddenly his facial expressions changed, almost as though I wasn't supposed to hear him. "Uh...gotta go. Gym...you know how that is." He took off, ignoring my calls of "_Finn?_"

It seemed as though Kurt was back to normal, I thought miserably going to class, rushing. With Kurt talking to me the way he was, I was going to be late. I slid into my seat right as the bell rang.

"Be on time next time, Melissa," Mrs. Reaper said.

"Sorry," I said, flushing bright red.

We were watching a video in biology. It was just a review of things I already knew, so I sketched a picture in my notebook. Mrs. Reaper was too busy telling off Nathaniel Davis and watching the video to notice, anyway.

Finally, _finally_, it was time for glee club. Even though we did next to nothing other than go over a few songs for an upcoming competition, I prefered glee to class. My mind was racing.

_Kurt likes _Finn? I thought. _No. Effing. Way. I mean, yeah, Finn's kind of cute, and pretty popular, but he knocked up Quinn Fabray, and Kurt knows that. Why still go for it? I mean I prefer Kurt have a crush on a guy, seeing as he's supposedly gay, but..._Finn?

I sighed as Mr. Schuester dismissed us. He was animatedly having a conversation with Rachel when I was gathering my stuff. I heard a voice behind me. "So...where's my tree figure?"

I turned. "Oh, yeah," I said. Artie was behind me. "Sorry, I forgot...we were watching some lame video in biology and there was more drama. Completely left my mind."

"Don't worry about it," Artie said, rolling himself forward. He obviously wanted to talk.

"Uh...this is awkward," I said as Artie was sitting and I was standing.

"So sit down," he said. I glanced over my shoulder. Rachel and Mr. Schuester were still in discussion, so I sat down. I sighed.

"I'm sorry," we said together. "_You're_ sorry?" we continued. "Why?"

"Because of what I told you the other night," I said. "Why are _you_ sorry?"

"Because of my _reaction_ to what you told me the other night." He was playing with his hands. This was obviously awkward for him. "I guess I kind of overreacted."

"Okay," I said, not sure what to say.

"I...I actually _do_ like you, Melissa..."

"Oh."

"So, again, I'm sorry."

I nodded. "So, uh..."

Mr. Schuester and Rachel were now in a very heated discussion. It did not seem to be going well. And...

The next thing I knew, Artie was leaning forward in his wheelchair, his lips pressed up against mine.

_Artie Abrams was kissing me._

* * *

**Finally that chapter's done. I'm sorry I was gone for a while. I've been dealing with a lot lately and I've been really depressed. I've cried every night now about my best friend, whom I'll probably never speak to again. Sighhhhh. Well now you know why I've been gone. Okay, poll: should Kurt and Finn end up together? I think they should. Of course, it'd have to be something dramatic, considering this is a _drama_, but I think they should get together, even if it's only briefly, but I want to know what you, my readers, think. Oh and fanfiction's being a jerk. It keeps saying I have zero hits on chapter six when I have two reviews for it; how can I have zero hits with two reviews? Aghhhh.**

**-Hatter**


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